


i'm bad at communication, it's the hardest thing for me to do

by cybercat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Past Sexual Assault, louis is kinda sad, this is basically just pining, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybercat/pseuds/cybercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis got hurt a while ago. harry listens to people for a living. they talk about things and all louis wants to do is maybe kiss him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm bad at communication, it's the hardest thing for me to do

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "The Wire" by Haim.  
> This is bad, sorry, but kudos/comments are greatly appreciated.

“It’s just like,” Louis pauses, “I just don’t understand why people always want to blame the victim. It hurts me more than it should, but.”

 

“And why does it hurt?” His therapist asks, writing notes that are obscured by his clipboard.

 

“Why the fuck do you think?”

 

His therapist- Dr. Styles according to his tiny nametag- raises his eyebrows.

 

“Sorry. Because I was the victim, once upon a time.” Louis almost laughs at this, because generally only fairytales start out like that. No, his story was more like a horror novel. Right next to _Goosebumps_ and Stephen King books in one of those shitty Barnes  & Nobles.

 

“Do you maybe, I don’t know, want to talk about it?” Dr. Styles questions, and Louis ignores the obvious irritation in his voice. Is this guy even a real therapist?

 

“Are you even a real therapist?”

 

Dr. Styles grins, and Louis thinks those dimples are probably illegal in seventeen countries.

 

“Of course.” His voice is slow and sticky, like honey. Louis wants to lick him.

 

See, Louis was fine. Yeah, a couple years ago, someone who he refused to call a human hurt him in his special spots. And maybe he didn’t get out of his bed or eat for a couple months. But he got over it. He met Zayn, who proved to be a fantastic roommate despite always leaving Fruit Loops and his weed money between the cushions. He met Niall, who was a fabulous bartender and always saw to it that Louis got a ride home and never stayed out in the open again. And he met Liam, who was sort of irritating, but if he made Zayn feel happy and safe, who was Louis to reject that?

 

Just because he said something about his incident- a joke that wasn’t really funny, to be specific- that didn’t mean he had to get help again. But Zayn was pretty relentless, especially when he started crying about how he “just wanted Louis to feel normal again,” whatever that meant. And seeing Zayn cry was heartbreaking enough- he didn’t need Liam’s puppy dog eyes or Niall’s silence or Stan’s seriousness or his mom’s long and meaningful stares. He couldn’t have any of that on his already overflowing conscience.

 

“Louis?”

 

Louis blinked, Dr. Styles’ voice blasting him out of his reverie. His eyes held only one visible emotion- concern. And it was different, different from whenever Zayn or Niall got worried about him. It felt more important, more delicate. Louis’ heart swelled a tiny bit.

 

"Right. Yeah. Okay, where do I begin?" He says, fidgeting slightly.

 

"Wherever's easiest." Dr. Styles replies, eying Louis's trembling hands.

 

"Well, okay, I was um, drunk, one night. And I was with this, uh, guy. I thought we were just going to dance, but-" Louis' voice broke off. He hadn't realized how difficult it was to talk about this, especially since he had been trying so hard to forget.

 

"We don't have to talk about this, you know." Dr. Styles cuts in. Louis makes a mental note to kiss him.

 

"Good," Louis smiles, "Let's talk about something else."

 

"Tell me about your friend, the one who signed you up for this meeting."

 

'Oh, Zayn? He's great." Louis watches as Dr. Styles' fingers twitch. "He's my best friend. He has an affinity for drugs, and he loves sugary cereals more than his sisters. At least, that's what he wants everyone to think. He's really a big sweetheart, and he calls his family every day, because they live back in Bradford. He gets this little smile on his face whenever he's talking to them, and he would drop everything just to tease Waliyha- that's one of his sisters- about her newest boyfriend. He puts up with me and pays more than his share of the rent, and he loves Liam more than anything. Maybe even more than Cinnamon Toast Crunch."

 

"So, he's not your boyfriend?" Louis watches with satisfaction as Dr. Styles' face turns a pretty shade of pink when he barks out a laugh.

 

"No way, ew. That's Liam. He's this huge health nut, goes to the farmer's market every Sunday and exercises every day of the week besides Friday. He always buys Zayn little presents, like low fat chocolate covered strawberries and deformed looking teddy bears. Not to mention the flowers, god. His friend Sophia is a florist, so he practically buys out the entire place whenever one of their anniversaries comes up."

 

"What about any other friends? Is there anyone else you can talk to if things get bad?"

 

"Well, Niall is great. He's hilarious, always smiling and laughing. Even when he's upset, he laughs. It's like crying isn't even wired into his brain. He always makes sure I'm safe, and his drinks are to die for. Then there's Stan, who's a little harsh sometimes, but he's been one of my closest friends since we were in diapers. Even when I got the lead in the school musical and all his friends started saying things about me- which were true, actually, not that I knew it at the time- he stood up for me. I have other friends, obviously, but they're not as close."

 

"Well, that's good. You need to be able to talk to people about your struggles without fear of judgment."

 

 “Woah, okay. Can you not sound so professional? It’s making me uncomfortable.” Louis grumbles, watching as Dr. Styles frowns.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel weird.” It was a little too late for that, considering the weird feeling Louis felt was one he hadn’t felt since being with his high school boyfriend. And whatever, maybe he would go home thinking of his unfairly hot therapist until his hands started to hurt. But the uneasy look on Dr. Styles’ face wasn’t settling at all.

 

“It’s okay- _do you have a first name? I don’t like calling you something so formal_ \- it’s just a little weird. Especially when you have a roommate who only mumbles a grand total of three words when he’s drunk or high.” Louis smiles, tucking his white sweater sleeves in.

 

“Harry.”

 

“That’s a nice name. I always wanted to be named something beginning with an H, like Hans or Howard or, like, Hot Stuff.”

 

Harry bites his lip. “Why not Louis? That’s a great name.”

 

“Because everyone pronounces it as _Lewis_.” Louis wants to touch Harry. Maybe poke his dimples.

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Grand observation.” Louis chirps, watching Harry’s passive face morph into content.

 

“Unfortunately,” Harry sighs, looking towards the clock on the wall, “We’re out of time and we haven’t talked about you at all.”

 

“Drats.” Louis simpers, standing up from the comfy plush chair. He gives Harry a final look, taking in the curly mess of brown hair and the bright green eyes and the spectacular jawline before turning to leave. Harry calls out a goodbye and a reminder to “see him again soon” before Louis is out the door and making a next appointment with the receptionist, because god, yes, he wants to see Harry again.

 

Preferably naked, but, details.


End file.
